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- LETTUCE FROM BRECHNEV :: A 128 BYTE INTRO :: BY RESERVOIR GODS
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- The fourth in "Last Among Sequels" trilogy
- by Jeffery Archer
-
-
- Jeff ran his fingers through his fine dark hair whilst staring
- admiringly at himself in the mirror. His handsome features grinned
- back at him. Jeff's face broke into a charming smile. Being
- intelligent, rich, powerful and wildly attractive came naturally to
- him. Women flocked around him like whores around a suitcase of cash on
- a railway station.
-
- Jeff was an important man and he had important thoughts on his
- colossal mind. He reasoned that only someone of his massive intellect
- could possibly solve the problem that lay before the country today.
-
- He turned his attention back to his desk, a fine example of jacobian
- architecture. Jeff's furniture was as suave and sophisticated as its
- magnificent owner.
-
- Perched nervously on this ornate bureau was the source of the malaise.
- It was a single, rather limp, lettuce.
- Jeff glared at it intensely. The vegetable didn't frighten him. Jeff
- was a man with nerves of steel, hardened by years at some of the
- finest academic institutions the country had to offer.
-
- "So you're going to play the silent game eh?" Jeff sneered.
- The lettuce made no reply.
- "Well let me tell you it doesn't cut any ice with me. I've reduced
- some of Canterbury's hardest tree protesters into floods of tears. I'm
- going to make you sing like a canary."
- Jeff turned his angle poised desk lamp towards the lettuce and let it
- fry under the full force of the 60 watt bulb.
- "So Mr Lettuce, you claim to have come from the.." here Jeff spat out
- the syllables like undercooked brussels sprouts "U.S.S.R. as a grocery
- import."
- The lettuce sweated slightly under the bright light.
- "Don't try and contradict me. I've seen your papers. And let me tell
- you, it doesn't fool me. Not one bit."
- Jeff smiled to himself at his brilliance for seeing through this
- complex charade.
- "Now admit it. You're a communist!"
- The lettuce remained silent.
- "A-ha! Ashamed to admit it eh? You dirty pinko puffs make me sick. You
- think you can just waltz into this great country of ours preaching
- your marxist claptrap and try to turn the people against us. Well it
- just won't wash."
- Jeff thought the lettuce looked suitably rebuked.
- "No-one is interested in your ideology any more. When was the last
- time 'Das Kapital' topped the W.H.Smith bestseller charts eh? My last
- book "Not a penny whore, not a suitcase less" was number one for eight
- consecutive weeks. Eight weeks! And when was the last time that Marx
- was invited to a coffee, biscuits and booksigning session by Guildford
- W.I.? Never, that's when!"
- Jeff congratulated himself on destroying the whole marxist-leninist
- philosophy with such a brilliantly constructed speech.
- "Now you filthy little socialist rat, you are going to spill the
- beans. Who sent you?"
- "...I'm waiting."
- "Come on, answer."
- "You're wasting your time not mine."
- "I can wait here all day."
- Jeff started whistling in a finely cultivated tuneless manner which he
- hoped would annoy the lettuce into speaking.
- "Now listen to me you loathsome leafed Lenin-worshipper. I am soon to
- become Mayor of London and I can make life very uncomfortable for
- you."
- The lettuce looked incredulous.
- "You don't believe me? The country have spoken with one voice! They
- say 'Jeff you must become Mayor of London and make Britain Great
- again. You must then rule over the whole of southern England before
- sending your troops north to militarise the Sunderland and capture
- Scotland and all those strange towns where they can't speak English
- properly.' Soon I shall be supreme ruler of the universe! It must be
- true because it is written in my book 'Lame and Able'."
- The lettuce looked bored.
- "Hmm, I suppose an ill-educated commie like you hasn't the intellect
- required to grapple with my miesterworks."
- Jeff pondered for a minute, then tried a different tack.
- "We are both men of the world. We like manly things like cricket,
- smoking pipes and getting a good spanking on the bare bumcheeks by
- schoolmasters at Eton. In return for certain information I can give
- you access to some 'manly pleasures' if you take my meaning."
- Jeff moved his head nearer the lettuce and reduced his voice to a
- whisper.
- "I know this girl....she'll do anything... kinky stuff, football
- shirts, doctors and nurses, domination, shoplifter and sweeties,
- French elbow, three in a lift, waiting for the bus, roadsweeper, mount
- the penny farthing even Polish condom games! You just need to leave a
- suitcase of cash at a railway station. She's very discreet, you'll
- only make 4 tabloid back pages, tops."
- The lettuce looked disinterested.
- "I knew it. Bloody communists are all the same. Bat for the other side
- do you? Back door lettuce? Walk the 'other side of the street'? Drive
- the 'wrong side of the road'? Turn the other cheek? Uphill gardener?
- Drink out of the 'opposite side of the cup'? Playing the 'other side
- of the record'? Watching the 'other channel'? Ploughing your own side
- of the field? Hoovering your own stretch of carpet?"
- The lettuce looked perplexed.
- "I'm saying you are an homosexual. Those are phrases we use in our
- country to describe this abhorrent activity. Of course they are rarely
- used as homosexuality does not exist in our fine god fearing nation.
- Apart from at Eton and at Tory party conferences. I can not understand
- why anyone could derive any pleasure from waiting in the showers after
- games for four hours for the sweet arse of Anthony Hamilton from 3B
- and then giving him a good..."
- Jeff went slightly red.
- "Obviously that wasn't me I was describing there, it was a friend at
- Eton. Well not a friend, a casual acquaintance. I hardly knew him. In
- fact I never met him. I don't even know who he is. IT'S ALL LIES DON'T
- BELIEVE A WORD OF IT I DIDN'T TAKE THE MONEY IT WAS ALL MY ACCOUNTANTS
- FAULT."
- Jeff loosened his tie. He was sweating. The interrogation was getting
- to him. He couldn't believe he was losing the plot in a back he was
- writing about himself.
- "You never have a plot worth losing!" shouted a voice.
- Jeff whirled round. "Who was that."
- "One of your readers. You spend so long telling everyone how wonderful
- you are there is never any room for a plot."
- "Look, keep your mouth shut. I'm writing this book.
- "Unfortunately."
- "What do you mean unfortunately! How dare you criticise me in my own
- book!"
- "I'm just trying to liven it up a bit."
-
- "You impertinent oaf! My books are humming with vibrancy. The Daily
- Mail said so."
- "The only thing this book is humming with is the smell of sweaty
- lettuce."
- Jeff went purple. "Your sort make me sick. You cardigan wearing
- guardian reading loony lefty school teacher types who think they know
- everything but never even went to Eton. You, sir, are a joke."
- "I'm not the one writing a novel about a KGB lettuce."
- "Listen to me you Michael Foot loving donkey jacketed CND supporting
- hippy if it wasn't for the likes of me this country would be overrun
- by reds in no time. This lettuce is a threat to national security."
- "It doesn't look very threatening to me."
- Jeff's face allowed a tight lipped smile. "That, my friend, is where
- you and me differ. Your clumsy eyes look but they do not see. I have
- the eyes of a hawk in the Himalayas..."
- "Are there any hawks in the Himalayas?
- "Shut up! What I am saying is that I have the insight to recognise
- potential hazards and dangers. If you were a KGB agent would you come
- into the country holding a big placard that said "COMMUNIST
- INFILTRATOR" whilst wearing a "I LOVE LENIN" T-Shirt and sporting a
- Das Kapital baseball cap? Or would you come in disguise?"
- "I wouldn't disguise myself as a lettuce."
- "Exactly. No-one would expect an agent to come disguised as a lettuce.
- That, my friend, is why its such a brilliant disguise. As Sherlock
- Holmes would say, use your little grey cells." Jeff tapped his
- forehead lightly.
- "Hercule Poirot."
- "What?"
- "That was Hercule Poirot's saying, not Sherlock Holmes."
- Jeff waved his hand dismissively. "Now, dear reader, you a splitting
- hairs. Fiddling whilst London burns."
- "Rome."
- "I'm quite happy where I am thank you. The real issue is what to do
- with this lettuce."
- "Eat it?"
- "Well I'm not surprised that your a pygmy sized intellect has only
- half baked ideas."
- "No, no. Eat it raw."
- Jeff sighed.
- "You are missing the point. I am planning to turn the lettuce then we
- can use it as a double agent.
- If the lettuce had eyebrows it would have raised them at this point.
- "Jeff, has anyone told you that you have the finest mind in England?"
- Jeff flushed with pride. "Of course. Many have."
- "Were they all character in one of your novels or were some of them
- care in the community cases?"
- "Look don't try and be funny. If I wanted a comedian I would ask for
- Ron Atkinson."
- "Rowan."
- "No Ron. The Sheffield Wednesday defence is the biggest joke I've seen
- all season."
- "Who do you think you are, David Baddiel?"
- "No, I'm going to be the next Nick Hornby. I'm quite jealous of his
- success and I want to do a Fever Pitch style novel, but aimed at the
- female conservative voters. There is masses to made from the blue
- rinse brigade. My novel is going to be a blow by blow account of an
- elderly constituency worker who is knitting a jumper for her husband.
- It will document the highs and lows of their life as the diamond
- pattern is slowly formed and will have a triumphant end as he wears it
- to his golf club."
- "Have you got a title for this drivel."
- "Fever Stitch."
- "Appalling."
- "I wasn't asking your opinion." Jeff sniffed. He had been planning to
- take over the Hornby market for some time now. The thought of that
- balding little liberal taking sales for his novels had angered him for
- some time. Hornby's work was so downmarket. How could people stoop to
- reading this stuff when some of the finest works of British
- literature, such as those of Archer, J, were left gathering books on
- the shelf.
- "Goodbye"
- Jeff was awoken from his daydream by the voice of the reader. It
- sounded somehow more distant. He looked up and was struck with terror.
- The lettuce had gone. Jeff rushed the window to see the vegetable
- astride a high powered motorbike.
- "You devil!" he roared shaking his fist out of the window.
- "For a first class mind you are remarkably dim!" Shouted the lettuce.
- "I used my ventriloquism trick, a staple of KGB training, to pretend
- to be the voice of your reader, and whilst I distracted you with
- thoughts of Nick Hornby I sneaked out of the fire escape!"
- "You fiend! You'll never get away with it!" snarled Jeff.
- "Oh but I already have." laughed the lettuce.
- "This can't be happening! The Tories always win in my novels!"
- "Ah yes," retored the lettuce, "but I hacked into your Amstrad PCW and
- changed the ending."
- Jeff's face contorted with rage.
- "Oh, and I also made some changes to your forthcoming novel. Imagine
- D.H. Lawrence meets the Marquis de Sade in an Edinburgh crack house.
- Should go down well with the blue rinse brigade. I've already faxed it
- to your publisher."
- "I'm ruined!" wailed Jeffery.
- "Nonsense." replied the lettuce. "Your going to be Mayor of London.
- Its all arranged."
- "Really?" Jeff's face brightened.
- "Its the only way of stopping you writing more novels." replied the
- lettuce roaring off into the London traffic.
-
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- LETTUCE FROM BRECHNEV :: A 128 BYTE INTRO :: BY RESERVOIR GODS
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-
- Your Chef serving up the FPU instructions:
-
- MrPink
-
- Recipe:
-
- Take 1 Atari Falcon030
- Add one FPU
- Place into 320x400/480 True Colour mode
- Beat LETTUCE.PRG twice with your mouse button
-
- The Result:
-
- A high definition 320x320 multi-layered Mandlebrot fractal
- Leave to simmer for 40 minutes to let the true flavours flood out
-
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- LETTUCE FROM BRECHNEV :: A 128 BYTE INTRO :: BY RESERVOIR GODS
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-
- Contact:
-
- mrpink_rg@hotmail.com
- sh3@zetnet.co.uk
- msg_rg@hotmail.com
- ripley_rg@hotmail.com
-
- http://www.acs.bolton.ac.uk/~msg1css/maison.htm
- http://www.users.zetnet.co.uk/zmoe3/three.htm
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- LETTUCE FROM BRECHNEV [C] 1998 RESERVOIR GODS
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